


sounds like my luck

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Spider-Man Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Blood, Bullying, Fire, Guns, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, In the Heights - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pining, Slow Burn, Spiderman AU, Violence, Weapons, injuries, shit doesnt really hit the fan until chapter 2 tbh, so i dont think theres going to be actual spiderman homecoming spoilers, this is a strange mix of spiderman homecoming and bmc, yeah like it starts out almost the same but like then its very Not the Same
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: A window in the nearby apartment building opened, and an older woman with curlers in her hair stuck her head out. "Turn that blasted thing off!"An old man across the alley did the same. "What's making all that racket?"The old woman waved at the man. "Oh, hello, Fred! It's so nice to see you, we very rarely talk anymore!"The man, Fred, adjusted his glasses. "Eh? Marlene, is that you?"Jeremy regretted his choice to stop by that particular neighborhood on his way through.******Jeremy Heere is Spider-Man. He's also a sixteen year old boy who is terrible at actually making time for his best friend, Christine, and even worse at trying to talk to his crush, Michael Mell. And that'sbeforethe weird things called "Squips" show up and ruin everything.





	1. underdog

**Author's Note:**

> looks like im jumping into the spiderman bandwagon too.
> 
> uh, so this is a thing that's happening. i never really cared much for spiderman until i went and saw spiderman: homecoming with my stepdad last friday, and now all i could think about was jeremy being peter parker, and michael being ned, but then i was like "but what if,,,, michael was LIZ, wouldnt that be lit?????" and so here i am. for those of you that have watched spiderman: homecoming and think you know all of the twists: youre wrong. vulture man is NOT who he was in the movie. in fact, 85 percent of the plot is bmc but with spiderman, and jeremy doesnt get squipped like five minutes in. 
> 
> so, yeah, i hope you enjoy! the title comes from the song "underdog" by imagine dragons, and i recommend listening to it while reading.

"That's an O, bro, you're a HO, get it?" Rich cackled, clutching his stomach. Jake scoffed and shoved at him, which Rich nimbly dodged, only to trip over the edge of the pavement and fall in the grass with a yelp. Jake laughed so hard he was doubled over, basketball forgotten at his feet. 

Rich huffed, pouting as he stood up and brushed off his knees, trying to repress his own smile. "Asshole!" He called, scooping up the basketball to make a shot, concentrating hard as he swayed from foot to foot. Jake's laughter died down to a few little giggles behind him. Rich bit his lip and shot, getting it right in. He was too distracted to hear the thump behind him. 

He twisted around, grinning triumphantly. "Jake! Dude, Jakey-D, did you see that? That was fuckin-" He froze, seeing his best friend's body crumpled on the ground. 

Someone was standing behind him with a black hood pulled over his head. In his hands, there was a shovel. 

"Jake?" He whispered. "What... You bastard, what the fuck did you do to him?" Rich demanded, lunging forward. He was shoved to the side, and something hit the side of his head, and then all was black. 

*****TWO MONTHS LATER*****

"Jeremy!" 

Jeremy Heere cringed and stopped walking, internally scolding himself for being upset that his best friend wanted to talk to him. Yeah, sure, he was a superhero and all, but that didn't mean he had to be a dick to the sweetest person he's ever had the pleasure of knowing. He turned, and smiled fondly as his best friend hurried over to him, eyes sparkling and clutching her sparkly pale blue iPad to her chest. Her blue and pink braces shined in the sunlight as she grinned at him. 

("Cotton candy colored, Jeremy, see?" 

"Can you even eat cotton candy with braces?" 

"I... Uh. I can't remember right now, but probably not. That doesn't matter though, Jeremy, it's the colors I'm focused on.") 

Christine Canigula had been his best friend since first grade, when she invited Jeremy to play in the Puppet Theatre with her when he was crying because of something one of the other kids called him. He remembered being in awe because Christine never let anyone play with her and the puppets, none of them loved it as much as she did. But Jeremy did. 

After that, they were practically inseparable. When Jeremy's mom split, she was the one who comforted him, and gave him a shoulder to cry on. When she finally figured out she was aromantic asexual, he was there to support her and tell her that he'll still love her (platonically) regardless. Every play, every bully, every grade, they were there, together. They were the world to each other, Christine and Jeremy against the world. They did everything together, but recently... 

Well, recently, Jeremy has been kind of a dick. To be fair, he was trying, he really was, but ever since he got bit by the damn spider and gained powers, he was fighting crime every day, wanting to help people and make a difference. But, it meant sacrifices, like not being able to hang out with Christine as much as he used to. It's hard enough balancing school, sleeping, and being Spiderman, adding time with Christine in there was basically impossible. 

"Hey, Chris," he greeted softly, smiling. "What's up?" 

She grinned, clapping excitedly and almost dropped her iPad. She quickly caught it though, looking sheepish. "Whoops. You'll never guess I found today, 'Remy!" 

He raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly, knowing she'd cut him off if he tried to say anything. 

Sure enough, she just took a breath and kept going. "I found a Shakespearean insult generator! Isn't that so cool? We should hang out and insult each other, and maybe build the Lego Deathstar that I got for my birthday. We keep forgetting to do that, thou art a foolish boil!" She looked so excited and hopeful, even though she knew just as well as he did that she never forgot to build the Deathstar, and that it was really just Jeremy who's just too busy. 

Jeremy felt the guilt sit heavy on his heart and lungs. His smile turned sad, and his shoulders slumped. He hated this part, the crushing of his best friend, over and over, but he had to keep her safe. 

(She also happened to be terrible at keeping secrets, she was impulsive and scatterbrained, but he loved that about her. He wouldn’t change it for the world, but it made it kind of hard to keep a secret between them. Honestly, he was shocked that she hadn't spilled the beans about his crush on Michael Mell yet, but that wasn't important.) 

He scuffed his shoe on the ground, looking to the side. "Christine, I have the thing, you now, the internship-" 

"At the video game company, yeah, I know," Christine said, voice quiet and disappointed. "I just... You _always_ have that internship, I just thought that maybe today..." She noticed the look on Jeremy's face and sighed. "Never mind. Maybe later?" 

Jeremy was already turning around, having glanced at his watch. He needed to go if he wanted to actually help anyone that night. "Yeah, later sounds good. I'll text you, Chris, but I gotta go. See you!" 

"See you," Christine echoed, but he was already gone, leaving her alone in the middle of the sidewalk in front of their school. Her shoulders slumped and she hiked her bag up, staring at her shoes as she started walking home. 

****** 

"Sonny, hey!" Jeremy grinned as he stopped in his favorite bodega for his after school, pre-patrol snack. 

Sonny, a Latino teen a year older than Jeremy, shot him finger guns. "Hey, how's my favorite white bread?" He teased, referencing the first time they met, when Sonny asked if he wanted white bread, and Jeremy thought he was calling _him_ white bread. 

Jeremy huffed, cheeks coloring. "Man, you ever gonna let that go?" He asked, grabbing two packs of gummy worms from the display. 

Sonny snickered. "Uh-uh, never, Jeremy. You want your gross ass regular?" 

"Oi, don't be talkin' to my customers that way!" A voice from the back called. Sonny's older cousin peaked his head through the doorway, and saw Jeremy. "Oh, never mind, it's just white bread." 

Jeremy pouted, trying to suppress a smile. "Here I am, just trying to support a local business, and you guys make fun of me for something that happened four years ago!" 

Usnavi laughed and reached over the counter and ruffled his hair. "Oh, we're just teasing. Sonny, make the kid his sandwich, he deserves it after having to look at your nasty mug." 

Sonny gasped, a hand over his heart like he was hurt. "Cuz, you wound me. Looks like I have to go live with Pete." 

Usnavi scowled at the mention, and Sonny held out his hands. "Joking, joking! Promise, 'Navi!" He snickered as Usnavi disappeared back into the backroom. He handed over the sandwich. "Here you go, Jeremy. Smushed it and everything." 

Jeremy flashed him a grin, and handed him a ten-dollar bill. "Thanks. Keep the change." 

He left the bodega, but not before he heard Sonny yell, "Hey cuz, I got a Hammy before you did! Eat a dick!" He laughed quietly to himself as he slipped into an alleyway to eat and change. 

 

"Ay, Spiderman!" Jeremy looked down to where a man at a hotdog stand was waving his hand. "Do a flip, dude!" The guy had a strong New Yorker accent that Jeremy couldn't help but smile at. A flip? Sure, he could do a flip. 

He stood, looking down at the street below him. He was standing on top of a little three-story building, not that big of a deal to him, he was used to taller things than that. He glanced around him, having the perfect amount of space, and did a quick little flip for the guy, who cheered and thanked him for it. He smiled, saluted, and took a step off the building before shooting a web, swinging across the street and onto the sidewalk. 

One little girl stared up at him in awe, eyes unbelievably wide. Jeremy waved at her, and she waved back before hiding behind what Jeremy assumed to be her mom. Kids were cute. It was one of his favorite parts, all of the kids who looked up to him, who saw him as someone who could protect him. It was daunting, sure, but it was worth it. 

"Excuse me, young man," a middle-aged woman with a hijab and a strong accent tapped his shoulder lightly. She looked a little nervous. "Can you direct me to Penn Station?" 

"Of course, ma'am, I'm always happy to help. So, you'll want to take this street two blocks down..." He listed off directions for the woman and she thanked him before hurrying off, checking her phone for the time. He smiled, and shot a web, swinging around idly as he watched for criminals. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was swinging from building to building in a residential area that was often plagued by petty theft. He glanced down an alleyway to see someone trying to unlock a car door with a coat hanger. He landed on top of the car silently. "Excuse me, but I don’t think this is yours," he said, shooting them in the forehead with a web, and yanking their face into the car. They shouted in pain and shock, and fall backwards with a groan. The car alarm went off as well. 

"That _is_ my car, asshole! Someone stole my fucking keys!" They yelled furiously, clutching their head. 

Jeremy winced. "It is? I apologize-" 

A window in the nearby apartment building opened, and an older woman with curlers in her hair stuck her head out. "Turn that blasted thing off!" 

An old man across the alley did the same. "What's making all that racket?" 

The old woman waved at the man. "Oh, hello, Fred! It's so nice to see you, we very rarely talk anymore!" 

The man, Fred, adjusted his glasses. "Eh? Marlene, is that you?" 

Jeremy regretted his choice to stop by that particular neighborhood on his way through. 

Soon enough, he was done for the night. It was around seven, and he was exhausted, and he had a chemistry test to study for. He started swinging back towards where he stored his backpack and clothes in the alley behind the bodega when he noticed something going on in the bank across the street. 

Hooded, masked figures were holding some weird tool in front of the ATM. Jeremy didn't bother trying to figure out what it was. Instead, he slipped inside the side door and leaned against the doorframe, trying to look casual as he watched them use the weird weapon to open the ATM. It was almost like an overgrown laser. He cleared his throat. "Hiya, fellas!" He said cheerfully, waving his hand. 

The men all whipped around to look at him. There were four of them, each wearing a different mask. Hulk, Thor, Ironman, and Captain America. 

"Wow!" He said, in faux shock. "I didn't know the Avengers where here, otherwise I would've grabbed my poster for you guys to sign!" He flicked his wrists, shooting out webs that nabbed two of them, Thor and Ironman, in the chest. Before they could react, he yanked them so they flew against the wall. "You guys are so much different than I imagined, really!" 

The two others charged towards him, and he sidestepped Captain America while webbing the Hulk and twisting so they'd run right into each other. Thor recovered faster than Ironman, and quickly got up, stepping up to Jeremy. He threw an overhand punch, which Jeremy easily dodged, but he didn’t expect the kick to his ribs from behind, knocking him straight into Thor. 

He scrambled to his feet, and crawled up onto the ceiling to web Thor's face, and then the Hulk's, who had been the one to kick him. Ironman had taken the chance to stuff his bag with money from the ATM, which annoyed Jeremy. "Hey, Ironman!" He called out, landing on the man from above, and wrapping an arm around his neck in a headlock. "Really, didn't you ever learn stealing was bad?" 

Someone grabbed him from behind and _threw_ him into the window, and, yup, that hurt like a bitch. He gasped for air for a second before quickly getting to his feet and heading back into the bank, head spinning. He didn't even make it two steps in when a weapon was being pointed at him. At least it wasn’t the laser one. "I'm starting to think you guys aren't really the Avengers," he said, a bit breathless. 

Unfortunately, this weapon was like some sort of immobilizing beam, and they didn't seem to appreciate his comment. They used it to through him into the wall. The very hard _metal_ wall. 

It knocked the breath out of him, and all he could do was weakly shoot a web at the retreating figures. It hit the guy with the laser gun, and all he managed to do was make him pull the trigger, dragging a beam across the bodega on the other side of the abandoned street. 

The bodega. The ones that both Usnavi and Sonny lived above. And it was now on fire. 

It took him more time than he would've liked, but Jeremy scrambled to his feet as fast as he could, and ran across the street. He forced himself not to give in to the pain shooting all along his body, focusing on the fact that the fucking _bodega where his two friends lived_ was on _fire_. 

(He then wondered if what Usnavi, Sonny and him had really counted as friendship, or if it was more of friendly acquaintances. He then realized that in that moment, it didn't really matter because if he didn’t get over there and fast, his friends/friendly acquaintances would be dead.) 

He quickly forced himself into the little bodega, reminding himself not to call the owners by their names. "Hey!" He shouted, searching the store. "Fire! Is anybody in here? There's a fire, you need to get out!" 

He found the stairs and ran up, running straight into a very confused Sonny. "Hey, you can't be up here-" 

Jeremy grabbed Sonny's wrist, quickly dragging him outside. "You need to get out, the store, it's on fire!" 

Sonny's eyes went wide as he smelled the smoke, and tried to pull out of his grip. "My cousin, Usnavi, he's upstairs still, he's sleepin', I gotta get him!" 

Jeremy shook his head, shoving Sonny out on the sidewalk. "No, call the police, I'll get your cousin!" He rushed back inside without waiting for a reply, choking on the smoke. There was so much of it, it made his chest and throat burn. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't, not until everyone was safe. "Usnavi!" He shouted, voice hoarse. "Wake up, you need to get out!" 

He opened doors until he finally found Usnavi's bedroom, where the man was slowly sitting up, still half asleep. "Sonny? What's goin' on?" He mumbled. 

"Your cousin is safe, but you need to get out, now. There's a fire in the bodega." Jeremy said quickly, dragging Usnavi by the wrist. 

That woke him up. "A fire? Oh my god, is Sonny okay?" He asked quickly, following Jeremy. 

"Sonny is fine, I promise. Hold your breath as we go downstairs, there's a lot of smoke," Jeremy said, heading down the stairs as fast as he could. 

They both made it out of the bodega just as sirens could be heard in the distance. Sonny ran towards Usnavi, tackling him in a hug as he sobbed in fear. "'Navi, Navi, Jesus Christ, 'Navi..." 

Usnavi held Sonny tightly, rubbing his back. He looked up to thank Spiderman, but he was gone. 

****** 

Jeremy just wanted to go home.


	2. out on the curb again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy _really_ doesn't want to deal with anything ever again. Especially not _this_ bullshit.
> 
> At least he has Christine by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise? honestly, im shocked i managed to write this all in two days, but, y'know, whatever. this chapter is 1k longer than the previous chapter, and i didn't even get in all i wanted to get in for this chapter, so. uh. this fic might end up longer than 10 chapters. we'll see.
> 
> quick warning!! theres mentions of blood/bruises/injury in this chapter! its not very graphic (at all), but y'know, it's there. theres also a lot of homophobia and bullying, and theres also a almost/kind of anxiety/panic attack at the end. theres also a lot of self deprecation, but this is jeremy we're talking about, so, like. those kind of come hand in hand. 
> 
> chapter title comes from watsky's cardboard castles which is a great song, btw

Jeremy's entire body ached, and he wanted to cry. 

Here he was, scaling up the side of his apartment, still in his suit because some asshole stole his backpack, which meant he couldn't just walk through the front door. He refused to let his dad find out about him being Spiderman. It would only stress the man out further, and he would tell Jeremy to stop, and he couldn't do that. The city needs him. 

So, he lied to his dad and told him that he was interning at some big video game company after school, and he believed Jeremy. Not that he had any reason not to, but sometimes Jeremy wished he did, just to force him to be a little more involved in his son's life. 

At the moment, none of that mattered though. At the moment, the only thing that mattered was sneaking into his room, closing the door and change before his dad noticed. Easy. 

He peeked through his window, watching as his dad read a newspaper at the kitchen table. Thankfully, his back was to Jeremy's room, so as long as he was quiet, it would be fine. 

He slowly slid his window open, chewing his li anxiously. Once it was wide enough for him to slip in, he did, scaling his wall to flatten himself against the ceiling. He silently crawled across the ceiling until he was right above his door. He shot a web at the top corner of the door to pull it until it was open just a crack, and then quietly closed it the rest of the way with his hand. 

With a sigh of relief, he carefully lowered himself to the ground, his feet not making a sound, and pulled off his mask. He ruffled his hair and prodded his nose to check if it was bleeding from the fight. He winced when he saw the blood on his finger, and turned around to get his first aid kit from his bedside table. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed was Christine, her almond eyes wide and unbelieving, and her mouth gaping like a fish. In her hands was a half-finished Lego Deathstar. 

She dropped the Lego set, and Jeremy winced as it fit the floor and shattered into separate pieces. 

"Jeremy?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Wha- I-I... uh, I-I don't... You just... Spi... Uh-hm." She laughed weakly. "Jeremy?" 

"Christine, I... How'd you get in here?" He asked weakly, unsure of what to say. His voice was thin and raw from the smoke inhalation, and he just wanted to sleep for a million years. 

"I... Your dad let me in. I just figured..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I just thought we could hang out, Jer." Her voice was borderline hysterical. "I thought that you were working yourself too hard, and that you just needed to relax, but look at you!" She furiously wiped at her eyes before quickly standing up, walking over to him to gingerly cup his face, grimacing at the sight. His face was covered in bruises, and his nose was bleeding, and there was a nasty cut under his eye as well. Her hands trembled. "Jeremy, what happened?" 

Jeremy swallowed. "I... Well. I tried to stop a bank robbery, but they were... I don't know. They didn't even really act injured, and they had these weird weapons, and they caught the b-bodega on fire, and they threw me into a window and the wall, and I had to go rescue Sonny and Usnavi-" a sob cut him off, and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from him. 

Christine softened and gently ushered him to the bed, rubbing his shoulder. "Just lay down, I'll take care of your injuries, okay? Where's your first aid kit?" 

Jeremy laid down gratefully, going limp against the blankets. "Top drawer in my bedside table. White box." 

Christine grabbed it and brought out a cotton ball. She poured a little hydrogen peroxide on it and very gently dabbed at the cut on his face. Jeremy made a soft noise of pain and she shushed him, taking his hand with her free hand. "Squeeze when it hurts, okay?" 

She methodically cleaned up his face, gently using a butterfly bandage to hold the cut together. She finished his face quickly, and gently squeezed his hand. "Can I take your suit off, Jer?" 

"I don't put out on the first date, Chrissy," Jeremy rasped, smiling weakly. He then showed her a tiny seam that had a zipper in it. "There. Careful, my chest is pretty banged up." 

She huffed and carefully unzipped the suit, peeling the tight spandex off his body. She winced sympathetically at the way in clung to his skin as she pulled it off. The suit was pulled off until his entire up torso and arms were exposed, and she pursed her lips at what she found. Most of his body was covered in black and blue bruises, and there didn't seem to be any open wounds, but she was pretty sure his wrist was sprained. "Jeremy, how were you using your hand like it was nothing earlier?" She asked, a little bit in awe, but mostly worried. 

"Adrenaline and my suit acts like an ace wrap, kind of, so I didn't even notice." He mumbled, whimpering as he carefully moved it to see how bad it was. 

Christine sighed and wrapped it with actual Ace wrap. "Don’t take the wrap off before it heals, or I will actually kill you." She grabbed a soft t-shirt from his dresser. "Sit up so I can help you put this on." 

"I can put on my own shirt, Christine," he protested halfheartedly, but listened to her anyways. She peeled off the rest of his suit, and hid it under his bed as per his request. He curled up on his bed, exhausted, and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?" 

Christine pulled Jeremy's blanket out from under him to lay over him, gently combing her fingers through his hair. "Around eight thirty, I think." She said, worry obvious on her face. 

"Fuck," he mumbled, pressing into her touch. "Wanna spend the night? I'll even let you sleep on the top bunk." 

She snorted. "Like you're in any shape to try to fight me for it. But, yeah, I'd like that. I'll even wake you up a little early so we can study for that chemistry test I know you haven't even looked at the study booklet for." 

His face flushed, but he smiled. "That... That'd be nice. Thank you, Chris." 

She kissed his forehead. "Of course. You're basically my platonic soulmate. Let's just not Romeo and Juliet this, okay?" 

He laughed, grinning dopily at her. "No promises," he teased. 

"Oh, go to sleep, you saucy ill-nurtured boar-pig!" Christine huffed, getting up from the bed to grab her book. When she turned back, Jeremy was fast asleep, looking a lot younger and more peaceful than she had seen him in a long time. 

This boy was going to be the death of her. 

****** 

By the next morning, Christine had gained back her natural curiosity, and started asking questions, which would normally be fine, but some of them were strangely invasive, and they were also in school, where anybody could hear them. 

"Do you, like, lay eggs?" Christine asked half way through first period, eyes wide as she leaned across the aisle. Their history teacher droned on, but the girl in front of him, Chloe Valentine, gave them both a weird look. 

Jeremy's face burned in embarrassment. "Chris, what the fuck?" He hissed. "No, of course I don't lay eggs!" 

She shrugged, going back to doodling on her notes. "I just wanted to ask, Jer, jeez." 

He groaned quietly, and Christine didn't ask another question until they were by Jeremy's locker, getting his English textbook for second period. 

"You're super strong now, right? Why is that? Is it like, how strong spiders would be if they were our size?" She paused, and then shuddered at the thought. "Ew, can you imagine spiders being human sized? They'd probably take over the world or something, that'd be so scary..." 

Jeremy sighed, unlocking his locker. "Chris, I have no idea. Probably? I mean, it makes sense." 

She hums thoughtfully, typing something into her iPad. Jeremy eyed her suspiciously. "What are you doing?" 

She just smiled and took her textbook from his arms. "See you third period!" She said cheerfully, skipping off to math. 

By the time he got to personal finance, she had more questions. "So, how far can you shoot it?" She asked, passing him a work sheet. 

"What?" He looked at her, caught off guard. "I... I don't know, I haven't exactly tested it out." 

Jenna Rolan, who sat at their table but never did any of the work, looked up, an eyebrow raised. Jeremy was unnerved. 

Christine, on the other hand, was oblivious. "I mean, if I were you, I'd try it out, y'know? Just stand on a tall building and test it out, see how far you can shoot it." 

Jenna's eyebrow raised impossibly further, and Jeremy kind of wished the ground would swallow him right there. 

"Christine." He said, glancing between her and Jenna. She looked confused for a second before smiling brightly at Jenna. "Hi, Jenna! I saw you signed up for the play! Are you excited? I know I'm excited, I just love play rehearsal." 

Jenna smirked. "Oh, I'm not going to do much, trust me. I mostly signed up because I saw Jeremy signed up, and so did Michael Mell." 

Jeremy choked, his head whipping up to stare at Jenna. "He-he did?" He squeaked, and then cleared his throat. "I-I mean, he did? Why? And why do you care that two specific people signed up for the same thing, I mean, it doesn't matter that much, does it?" 

Jenna snorted. "It wouldn't if it wasn't you two idiots. Your crush on him is super obvious, and I want to get first hand gossip of it all." 

Jeremy gaped and looked at Christine, who patted his arm sympathetically. "It's not _that_ obvious, Jenna is just observant." 

Jenna snorted, but Christine ignored her. "'Sides, that just means you'll get to spend more time with him, and get him to like you." 

Jenna opened her mouth, as if to say something, and then closed it, giving Jeremy a careful look over. She shook her head and went back to her book, and ignored them for the rest of the class period. 

At lunch, Christine and Jeremy sat together and one of the tables to eat, quietly chatting. Jenna sat alone at the end of the table, nose stuck in a book as usual. 

Without warning, Rich Goranski, five foot five of pure bully, walked over and grabbed Christine's backpack, writing something on it with a black Sharpie. Jake Dillinger, awesomeness personified and Rich's best friend did the same to Jeremy's backpack. 

"Hey, don't touch that!" Jeremy tried to grab his backpack, but Jake held it out of his reach, smiling lazily. "Sorry, homeslice, no can do." He pushed Jeremy back and quickly finished writing whatever he was writing on his bag. He tossed the backpack at Jeremy just as Rich dropped Christine's on the floor. "And don't you losers even think about washing it off," Rich added, high-fiving Jake and bolting out of there with a laugh. 

"We're not losers," Jeremy mumbled weakly, catching his backpack. 

Jenna hummed, turning the page in her book. "You definitely are. Why do you think nobody sits next to you guys at lunch?" 

" _You_ sit here at lunch," he said back, eyebrows furrowed. 

Jenna looked up, unimpressed. "That's because I don't have any friends, and I know you losers don't either, so you'll leave me alone." 

Christine shrugged. "I mean, she's got a point." She picked up her backpack to inspect what was written on it. "YS? What does that mean?" 

Jeremy looked own at his own backpack, and his stomach churned. "Our backpacks make the full word when we're standing next to each other, Chris," he said quietly, staring down at his backpack which had "GA" scrawled on it with big letters. 

Christine looked confused, and he showed her his bag, his shoulders hunching in humiliation. Her face twisted in anger and disgust. "I hate them. An I don't hate _anyone_ , it’s a rule of mine. But, every rule has an exception, I suppose." 

Jeremy nodded silently, and picked at his food for the rest of lunch, having lost his appetite. 

As soon as the bell rang, he rushed off to chemistry with Christine, eager to just get the day over with. Throughout the entire period, they both got heckled with comments about their backpacks. 

"Hey, homo, I think you got something written on your bag there," Dustin Kropp sneered from the table next to them. Their teacher had just left to go get copies of the test, and the class dissolved into chaos. 

Chloe, who was his lab partner, sighed impatiently, rolling her eyes as she drummed her perfectly manicured nails on the table. "I like gay people," she said in her most snobbish voice. Jeremy internally groaned at the sound. He knew there was something coming next. Sure enough, she added, "I think the main problem with those losers is their freakish personalities." 

"At least we _have_ personalities," Jeremy muttered, and Christine giggled. Before he could celebrate his little win of making Christine laugh, there was a hand on his shoulder, and hot breath on his ear. He froze, swallowing nervously. 

"What'd you just say about my girlfriend, gay boy?" A voice snarled. Jake Dillinger. Just his luck. 

He stammered, trying to reply, but Jake and Dustin just mocked him. 

"Buh, buh, buh!" Dustin crowed, laughing hysterically. 

"Oh, poor wittle stammer shit can't say his words right!" Jake taunted, doing a mock baby voice. Then, without warning, he yanked Jeremy's chair back, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

Christine whipped up out of her seat and shoved Jake back, having a surprising amount of strength for someone who was barely five foot. She then very gently helped Jeremy to his feet, looking at him worriedly. He could barely breath, his body ached from all of the injuries from the night before. He healed quickly enough that they were mostly gone, but being thrown like that made the worst ones flare up. 

She righted his seat, and sat him down, jaw tightening. "Not worth it, Chrissy, can we just pretend this didn't happen?" He whispered, giving her puppy eyes. She sighed and nodded, but not before glaring at Jake and Dustin once more, who were laughing and mocking them both. 

Then, the teacher came back, and Jake went back to his seat, and everything was quiet during the test. 

It was nice, but the peace didn't last forever. 

He headed into the boy's locker room after chemistry to get changed for PE when someone gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, uh, I think someone wrote something on your backpack-" 

Jeremy snapped, tired of people making fun of him, tired of dealing with their comments, tired of existing. "Yeah, I ge-get it, okay? Ha, ha, I'm such a f-fucking lo-loser 'c-cause I only have one friend and I like old v-video games, a-and I have a _st-stutter_ and now someone wrote g-gays on our ba-backpacks, what a fucking hilarious j-joke!" His voice cracked, and he whirled around only to come face to face with Michael Mell. 

Michael Mell, ASB President, and all-around loved by the student body. Michael Mell who wouldn't be caught dead bullying another student, who saw the good in basically everyone, who ran an anti-bullying campaign since his freshman year. Michael Mell, the sweetest, kindest kid in the whole fucking school (well, tied with Christina, actually) who he just yelled at for something he didn't do at all. 

God, Jeremy was such an _asshole_. 

Michael was staring at him, expression concerned. "Are people making fun of you?" He asked gently, and then cringed, like he realized what a stupid question it was. "Who's making fun of you? I can tell the teachers, I'll tell them I saw it and no one will ever know you said anything." 

A slightly hysterical laugh made its way out of his throat, and he felt tears stinging his eyes. God, he was pathetic. Of course, the only way Michael would notice him was because he was such a weak loser who couldn't even deal with a little name calling. 

Before he knew what was happening, he couldn't breathe, and tears were uncontrollably pouring from his eyes. "I-it wo-would be e-easier t-to jus-just make a li-list of wh-who isn't," he sobbed, shaking like a damn leaf. He shouldn't've said that. He should've kept his fucking mouth shut. But he couldn't take it back now. 

Michael looked angry for a split second before he took a deep breath, seemingly getting his cool back. "Alright, okay, you're okay... Jeremy. Right?" Michael looked at him for confirmation, and he could only nod. His chest felt too tight, and he was scared, and he was anxious, and his head was spinning, and he couldn't do anything but bob his head like a fucking idiot. "Okay, Jeremy. Let's sit down on the bench, alright? Just focus on breathing, no one is going to bother you. You're okay. Breathe with my counting, okay? In for one, out for one. In, two, out, two. In, two, three, out, two, three. There you go. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. In, two, three, four, five, out, two, three, four five." 

Jeremy shivered, slumping against the locker. He was exhausted from his little anxiety attack, and just wanted to sleep and never wake up. "Thanks," he whispered, staring blankly at the wall. 

"Don't worry about it. Take your time, okay? I'll tell Coach that you were needed in the office for something, and that you'll be out in a bit, and I'll tell your friend that you're okay." Michael kept his voice soft as he reached over to squeeze Jeremy's shoulder. "And if you ever want to give me names, my locker is 203. Nobody has to know. Bullying is never okay, and I don't want it in my school, if I have any say in it." 

Michael patted his shoulder once more before leaving, and Jeremy was embarrassed to admit it, but he definitely watched Michael walk away. Especially a specific part of him. 

Everything about Michael was beautiful to Jeremy, honestly. His cocoa brown skin, his soft looking almost black hair, his beautiful eyes framed by cute glasses, his chubby arms, cheeks, and stomach, and thighs, his tall, broad frame, the big gages in his ears- everything about him was amazing. Jeremy could stare at him all day, but unfortunately, that was creepy, and he was sure Michael wouldn't appreciate it in the slightest. 

Luckily, thinking about Michael helped him stay calm, especially as he thought about Michael's soft hand on his shoulder, how dark and worried his eyes were as he helped him out of his panic. Thinking about it now made his face burn, and he internally screamed at himself for not savoring it while it lasted, but that was kind of difficult considering the fact that he had been in the middle of an attack. 

He sighed, checking his watch. He only missed the first ten or so minutes of PE, it was fine. He got up and got changed quickly though, not wanting to worry Christine more than she probably already was. 

Everything was _fine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we finally meet michael!!! yay!!! also, i promise rich and jake arent going to be like this forever, theyre not really assholes, but, well,,,,,
> 
> chloe and dustin have no excuse though. and jake/chloe is not endgame in the slightest.
> 
> also, yall should know, jeremy does an almost unhealthy idolization of michael, cause like michael definitely has flaws, but hes trying.
> 
> two more things, i know, its slightly out of character to have michael be popular and shit, but like. in this verse, his best friend is brooke, and he's nice and calm enough to be popular in this verse. hes still a fucking nerd, but like, idk, they actually appreciate it. last thing, yall can pry tall, chubby michael from my cold dead hands, okay, hes fat and hes beautiful, and hes perfect the way he is.
> 
> anyways, comments make my day, and kudos make me smile.
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr: patrocool, twitter: nb_lafayette, instagram: retro.skates. 
> 
> also, quick question, would any of yall be interested in maybe me making a tumblr ask blog thing for this verse? like, i could post little drabbles and shit, idk, maybe shitty little doodles.
> 
> EDIT: okay, i made the blog, you can ask the crew all kinds of questions/request drabbles over at askspidermanjeremy.tumblr.com. i wont be posting spoilers there, it will stay at the spot that the story is currently at. so if you were to ask things now, itll be chapter 2 jeremy that answers.


	3. what the hell is going on / mm whatcha say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you hear about the thing at the bank last night? And the bodega, down on 31st Avenue?" It was Brooke, Michael's best friend, who asked the question. Her voice always reminded Jeremy of a bird's chirps. Squeaky and high pitched, but pleasant to listen to. 
> 
> "Yeah, the Spiderman apparently was trying to fit them off, but he got beat up pretty bad." Chloe spoke next, voice nonchalant. 
> 
> Jeremy's ribs ached at the reminder. 
> 
> ******
> 
> The Gym scene and smartphone hour. Have fun with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter is from hide and seek from imogen heap. i hit shuffle on my phone, and, well, this song happened to come on and it fit.
> 
> also its 2:30am and i crave death
> 
> theres a lot of Not So Fun things in this one. theres a graphic description of an injury, suicidal thoughts, lots of characters being in pain, fitness testing (the horrors), someone throws up once, homophobia&bullying, a fun mix of disassociating/shock, and a panic attack. if theres something i didnt mention that needs to be mentioned, please tell me!! like i said, its 2am, please kill me.
> 
> this is unbeta'ed and it also happens to be over 5k words. also, yall get to meet michaels parents!!

Everything was _not_ fine. 

As Jeremy walked into PE, everyone stared. He felt himself shrinking under their gazes, shuffling awkwardly over to where Christine was waiting. She looked at him, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. "It's fitness testing today, you up to it?" 

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter if I'm up for it, I'm doing it. I kind of have to." He gave her a small smile. "Thanks anyways, Chris." 

She frowned but nodded, dragging him over to the mats. Sit-ups first, it seemed. Most of the class were on the mats, waiting to begin, but a handful of students were on the bleachers, waiting for spots to open up on the mats. Jeremy sat down on the mat, and Christine smirked. "Don't look now, but Michael and his friends are on the bleachers behind you," she whispered, and sure enough, when Jeremy listened, he could hear the conversation behind him. 

"Did you hear about the thing at the bank last night? And the bodega, down on 31st Avenue?" It was Brooke, Michael's best friend, who asked the question. Her voice always reminded Jeremy of a bird's chirps. Squeaky and high pitched, but pleasant to listen to. 

"Yeah, the Spiderman apparently was trying to fit them off, but he got beat up pretty bad." Chloe spoke next, voice nonchalant. 

Jeremy's ribs ached at the reminder. 

"He saved the de la Vegas though," Michael was quick to defend. "He ran into a burning building, a building he probably didn't even know if anyone was _in_ , mind you, and saved two people's lives. That's pretty amazing and brave." Jeremy stared at Christine, still doing his sit ups. She was smirking, still listening. "Also," Michael continued, not aware of his audience. "don't call him "the" Spiderman, it sounds stupid. It's just Spiderman. Like Superman, or Thor." 

Chloe scoffed. "Sounds like you have a crush on _Spiderman_ ," she sneered. 

"Maybe I do," Michael said. "you got a problem with that?" 

Brooke giggled. "Do you really have a crush on him?" 

"Who doesn't? I mean, damn, he wears a spandex suit, for crying out loud, he's _hot_. Plus, he's stupidly brave and kind too. I mean, he gave my aunt directions the other day. That's not exactly a superhero thing, that's just a sweet, nice thing." Michael sounded so casual and unashamed, it made Jeremy flush. It also made Christine think something, and impulsively do it. 

"Jeremy knows Spiderman!" She exclaimed and Jeremy craved death. He scrambled to his knees and turned to face them, embarrassed and wishing he could die right there and then. 

"N-no, I don’t! I-I mean, I d-do, but I-I'm not supposed t-to t-tell any o-one about it!" He said the last part to Christine, who looked sheepish. "At least _you_ didn't technically tell?" She offered weakly, and he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 

Unfortunately for him, the entire class heard Christine's outburst, and he knew Rich probably heard it, since he happened to be in that class. 

Sure enough, Rich sauntered over, faking curiosity. "Jeremy Heere? _You_ know Spiderman?" He asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How in the world did you manage to do that?" 

"I-I... U-uh, I-it's cl-classif-fied," he stammered, his face burning, shoulders hunching. 

Michael made an entrance, shoving his way in. "I think it's pretty cool that Jeremy knows Spiderman," he said in his calm voice that no one could argue with. 

Rich sneered, rolling his eyes. "Oh yeah, it's totally cool. In fact, why don't you bring your best bud, Spidey, to Michael's house party tonight? It'll be fun. You can even bring your other freak friend." 

Michael scowled. "Rich, don't be a dick, that's not cool." He turned to Jeremy, face apologetic. "You both are welcome to come if you want to, and if Spiderman wants to drop by, he's welcome as well, but no pressure, okay?" 

Christine piped up before Jeremy could say anything. "We'll be there!" 

Jesus, they were going to die of humiliation tonight. 

****** 

Jeremy didn't care much for parties, and neither did Christine. He didn't like it much because too many people just drained him of energy and he always made a fool of himself. Christine found parties overwhelming, and often got sensory overload, which wasn't fun for anyone, but as an extroverted person, she was excited to be surrounded by people. 

Jeremy sighed as they looked up at the house, pursing his lips. "We're here," he mumbled. 

"It's so big," Christine murmured in awe, stars in her eyes. 

"That's what she said," Jeremy snickered, nudging Christine. 

She looked confused for a moment before her eyes widened in realization, and she giggled. "Sex joke?" She asked, just to clarify. 

Jeremy nodded, smiling encouragingly. "Yup. Ready to go in?" He asked. 

She shrugged, reaching over to grab his hand. "As ready as I'll ever be." 

He squeezed her hand and they headed to the door determinedly. Christine dropped his hand in favor of knocking on the door. It was quickly opened by a smiling Michael, and Jeremy internally melted at the sight. 

"Hi!" Christine greeted cheerfully from his side, and Jeremy snapped out of it quickly. "U-um, h-hello," he stammered, cringing a little. God, no wonder they were bullied so much. He was such a loser. He didn't even know why they bothered to come to this party. 

Michael's smile widened. "Hey, welcome to my house. Come on in, make yourselves at home, help yourselves to all food and drinks. Also, if you don't want alcohol, there's soda cans in the fridge as well as unopened water bottles. Don't trust anything that's been opened, it's probably spiked by this point." 

Jeremy's face burned, anxious just by looking at all of the people in the house. He and Christine stepped in hesitantly, looking around. There had to be at least forty teenagers, all doing their own thing, and judging by the lack of coordination and bad singing, most of them were drunk. In other words, none of this was even remotely Jeremy's idea of fun. 

Michael must've sensed the disdain because he gently touched Jeremy's shoulder. "Hey. Not my idea of fun either, honestly. Rich was the one who convinced me to throw a party, but I'm kind of regretting it. I really don't want to deal with clean up." 

Jeremy smiled weakly, chewing his lip. "Jeremy doesn't like crowds," Christine supplied helpfully. "Is there a room we can go to if it gets too much?" 

Michael nodded, still smiling, but seeming to soften slightly. "Yeah, you guys can use my room if you want. Here, follow me, I'll show you." 

The two trailed after him, mostly unnoticed by the rest of the partygoers. "Even here, we're basically invisible," Jeremy murmured to Christine. 

She shrugged. "At least it'll be harder to shove us into lockers here," she replied, and Jeremy couldn't help but let out a soft, startled laugh. 

He almost bumped into Michael, who had stopped just in front of him. "This is my room-" Michael opened the door to show his bedroom. On the far wall, there was a desk underneath the window, and a bed right next to it. There were clothes, papers, books and other assorted items cluttering the hard wood floor, and the walls were painted red. Next to the door, there was a TV with a few different gaming systems. There were various posters on the walls, a few with retro games, one with pop art of Bob Marely, a star chart and what looked like a poster with different kinds of penguins, like a poster you'd find in a kid's National Geographic book. On the desk, in a pencil holder, was a gay pride flag and a Filipino flag. 

In other words, Jeremy wanted to scream how cute Michael was, and find out every little piece about him. 

Michael closed the door, and cleared his throat. "So, uh, yeah, you guys can go in there if you need some space or whatever." 

Christine bobbed her head, smiling brightly at him. "Thank you!" 

A nod, and then they were led back to the party. Michael left them alone when somebody called him over, and Jeremy felt himself deflate. "This was such a bad idea," he said quietly, trying to shrink into someone much smaller than himself. 

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Christine said, trying to be optimistic. "Micahel kept smiling at you, did you see that? He at least likes you as a person." 

He smiled dryly, snorting. "Gee, thanks, Chris. Makes me feel real good." 

She smiled brightly, not catching the sarcasm in his tone. "Good, I'm glad. Now, you wanna go get food? I'm starving." 

They milled around the party for who knows how long, just sticking together and stuffing their faces with food, sodas in hand. (Christine had a Sprite, and Jeremy had what Christine called, "The actual spawn of Satan", otherwise known as Pepsi.) The two were fine like that, just watching people, and quietly making fun of the drunk girls. They were peaceful like that, everything was fine. 

Then, Rich and Jake showed up, and Jeremy wondered if they could make a run for it. 

"Hey, losers," Rich sneered, raising an eyebrow. "Where's Spider-Man? Or did his invite get lost in the mail?" 

Jake laughed, and Jeremy squirmed, uncomfortable. 

"He has better things to do than hang out with wannabes like you two," Christine said bravely. "If he does show up, it's not for you." 

Rich snickered, stepping forward and shoving Christine roughly. She stumbled backwards, unprepared, and Jeremy quickly out to steady her. He scowled at them. "Why w-won't you j-just leave us a-alone?" 

That was when Michael stepped in, face stony. "Something wrong, Rich?" He asked, crossing his arms across his chest. 

Rich seemed to twitch and jerk a little before he fixated his gaze on Michael. Something sounded off in his voice when he spoke. "Your little fanboy, stutter bitch over here, and I just got conflicting messages, that's all, Mell. I was under the impression that he was friends with Spider-man, but I think he was just lying to get into your pants, really. That's all homos like him do." His arm suddenly slammed into the wall, almost looking like he was trying to fight something. 

Jeremy barely noticed though, from the panic that overcame him. He didn't need more rumors spreading around about him, and he especially didn't need Michael to know about his crush. "I'm n-not gay!" He said, a little too loud, and a little too fast. "A-and I d-don’t want to ge-get into _Mi-Michael's_ pants! E-even if I w-was gay- w-which I'm not! - I wouldn't w-want to!" 

Too caught up in trying to save face, he didn't notice the hurt flash across Michael's face. Jeremy just rambled on, nerves frayed and anxiety raising. "I-I mean Michael's c-cool and all, b-but I'm straight! I don't ha-have a crush on him. I-I would never have a cru-crush on him!" 

Michal's jaw clenched. "You heard him," he muttered, voice sounding... Off. It lacked its usual warmth. "He's not gay. Now fuck off, Rich." He waited until Rich and Jake backed off to turn and head away from Jeremy and Christine. 

"Hey, wait-" Jeremy reached out to grab Michael's sleeve but he whirled around, ripping it out of his grasp. "Don't touch me. Just... Just leave me alone, Heere." He rushed off, and Jeremy swallowed, feeling Christine touch his elbow. 

"On a scale of 1 to he's never talking to me again, how much did I just fuck that up?" He asked weakly, but instead of Christine answering, it was someone else. 

"A solid you-better-figure-your-shit-out-and-apologize." Leaning against the wall was Jenna, nursing a strong-smelling drink in a red solo cup. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I say shit I shouldn’t say as a hobby, so, let me tell you this, Jeremiah. That boy is more insecure than a teen girl who was told that she was ugly and that nobody would love her by her boyfriend of two years." 

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably, his nose scrunching up. "That's a strangely specific metaphor, Jenna." He said after a few seconds of silence. She just raised an eyebrow and he sighed, looking to Christine. 

His best friend looked troubled. "I mean, I'm not all that good at picking up social cues, but I can tell that cut pretty deep, Jer. I suggest giving him a few minutes to calm down before apologizing. Don't try to hunt him down right now though, I think he needs a minute. Probably." She paused. "Maybe we should tell Brooke." 

Jeremy winced and nodded, rubbing his biceps. "Yeah, I'll go get her. And i think I'll leave after that, I've caused enough damage for one night." 

Christine looked disappointed. "Damn, I wanted to stay longer..." 

Jeremy smiled softly. "Hey, you can stay longer if you want to. I can pick you up later, just text me when you want to leave." 

She looked uneasy. "I... I don't want to be alone though." 

Jenna spoke up, looking bored. "You can always hang out with me. It's not like I have any friends to talk to." 

Christine brightened considerably. "Okay! Jer, you're being replaced, Jenna's my best friend now," she teased. 

He huffed. "Damn it. So rude." He gave her a quick hug. "See you two later," he said, heading towards the kitchen where he knew Brooke probably was. 

After telling Brooke about her best friend's possible state of being, Jeremy left the party. He sat in his dad's truck for a solid minute or two in silence, savoring the quiet and calm of the moment before he turned on the engine and drove to the nearest Seven Eleven. 

****** 

It was barely twenty minutes later, Jeremy sitting in the truck with a blue raspberry slushie playing Crashy Cats when his phone went off with a call from Christine. He could hear shouting in the background, and some weird crackling. He sat up immediately, alert. "Christine?" He asked, worried for his best friend. 

"O-oh my god, Jeremy, th-the house-" Christine was crying, he could hear it She was terrified. "The house, it's on fire, there's still people inside, the firetruck won't make it in time." 

The message was clear; he could make it in time. Or at least, Spiderman could. 

"On my way, Chris." 

****** 

Honestly, he had been in more fires that week than he should have ever been in a lifetime. He was carrying out a tiny twig of a girl when the firetruck finally arrived. He rushed forward to give the girl to the trained paramedics, who all gaped at him. 

"How did you-" One of them started saying, but he cut them off with a shake of his head. 

"No time, here." He put the girl on the gurney, and rushed back towards the burning house. He ignored the shouts from the fire fighters and paramedics as he looked around, trying to account for everyone he had seen at the party. 

"Michael!" Someone shouted from behind him. He turned to see Brooke rushing towards him, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "My best friend, Michael Mell, he's in the second-floor bathroom, you have to help him!" 

He nodded, turning to survey the burning house. He saw an open window and didn’t even think before he shot his web, swinging himself up to climb through it quickly. He burst into the hallway. "Michael Mell!" He shouted, banging on doors and opening them as fast as he could. Somewhere in this house there was someone about to die, and that person happened to be someone he had probably driven to tears not even an hour earlier. "Someone told me a Michael Mell is up here! Shout if you can hear me, let me know where you are!" He heard banging and a weak, raspy voice crying out for help. It was coming from around the corner. 

He rushed around the bend only to almost fall into a hug gaping hole in the floor. Below him were the fiery remains of what he thought was the living room. On the other side of the chasm, there was a door kept shut by a fallen beam, the ends on fire. 

He swallowed, and picked out the most stable spot on the ceiling and used it to swing himself over the gap. From there, he grabbed the beam, gasping at the burning pain as he grabbed smoldering wood. "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," he grunted, pushing the beam up and away from the door, which he opened as soon as he could. 

In the middle of the bathroom was a tearful, trembling Michael who looked like he was seconds from going into a panic attack, if he wasn't already. Immediately, Jeremy held his hands out, keeping his movements slow and smooth. "Hey," he said, voice soft. "Hey, Michael. Come here, it's gonna be okay, I can get us out of here, okay? You're gonna be okay." 

Michael stepped forward, but then hesitated. "I... I'm better off dead," he whispered, as if he was coming to a realization. Jeremy's heart shattered at the look on Michael's dirty, tear streaked face as he looked at him. It was so empty and hopeless, and sad. "You... You should just leave me here. I'm no use to anyone." 

Jeremy swallowed hard, shaking his head. "That's not true, Michael. A lot of people would be really upset if you died. That girl out there, your best friend, she was in tears when she told me you were up here. Let's get you out, okay? Even if it's so your best friend doesn't blame herself for your death. Do it for her if you can't do it for yourself." 

That seemed to snap Michael out of it. He stepped forward once, and then rushed forward to Jeremy, looking determined. Jeremy gently ushered Michael out of the bathroom, and he paled at the sight of the gap, backing into Jeremy's chest, and then flushing. 

"I'm going to need you to turn around and face me, okay?" Jeremy requested softly. Michael did as he was told, fear written all over his face. Jeremy wrapped an arm around Michael's waist. "Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight-" he instructed, but was cut off as Michael suddenly pushed away. 

"Y-you can't carry me," he said, coughing a little on the smoke. 

"Yes, I can. We don't have time to argue, the house is going to collapse soon if the smoke inhalation doesn't kill us first." 

Michael flinched at the sharp tone, and Jeremy winced, trying to keep himself calm. His throat and hands burned, he felt so hot in his suit, like heat was pressing in on all sides, and now Michael was trying to fight him on something while literally swaying on his feet. "I-I'm f-fat, I'll b-be too heavy," Michael rasped, tears of frustration welling in his eyes. 

Jesus, Michael was still recovering or having from some sort of panic or anxiety attack, _and_ he was probably a bit delirious and dizzy from the smoke, and was probably going through some shock as well. Jeremy had to get him out, and fast. 

Jeremy's chest felt tight, and he realized it wasn't just anxiety, it was the fact that smoke inhalation was getting him too. The suit helped filter a little bit out, but not much. He coughed and shook his head, wincing as it made his vision go double for a split second. "Michael. Yes, you're fat, but there's nothing wrong with that. I know that when you're not covered in soot and shit, you're a pretty fuckin' handsome dude, but look, if we don't get out of here right now, one of us is going to pass out. I promise, I can carry you, I have like super strength." His voice and throat hurt, and the last bit was barely croaked out. 

Michael hesitated for a second more until a loud crack sounded through the hall, and he swore, rushing forwards. Jeremy quickly wrapped an arm around him, holding him tight as Michael's arms wrapped around him. It was a bit awkward since Michael was bigger than his skinny bean pole self, but he made it work, quickly swinging them across the gap. He gently pushed Michael forward, coughing and wheezing. "Hurry," he rasped, pointing toward the open window. Michael looked at the window, and then looked at him, doubled over and hacking up a lung, not able to breathe, and made a decision. He picked Jeremy up and carried him over to the window, making him breathe in fresh air. 

"How do we get down, Spiderman?" 

Jeremy smiled under his mask. "Have you ever repelled?" 

It took about thirty seconds of awkwardly webbing Michael to his body in enough of a harness to do it safely, and it felt like too much time. They could hear firefighters downstairs shouting and breaking down doors, and then they both felt the ground shake as something collapsed. 

"That's our cue to get the fuck out of here. Hold on, okay? Just breathe," Jeremy instructed, carefully maneuvering them out of the window, holding them up with three different ropes of web. He could hear screams and shouts of people below them, clearly afraid they were going to fall. "Ignore them. Just focus on me," Jeremy continued as he started inching down. "You're doing really good, Michael, we're almost there, just breathe." His throat felt like someone had shoved a cheese grater down it, and he felt so dizzy it hurt. His chest felt like it was getting smaller and smaller. 

He barely noticed that they made it to the ground. Paramedics were waiting for them, he weakly pulled the webs off Michael and pushed him towards them. While they were distracted with helping Michael get away with the house, he stumbled off to the edge of the property, coughing and hacking until he ended up vomiting in a bush. His legs trembled as he fell to his knees and he whimpered at the burning in his throat and lungs as well as his hands. Everything hurt, and a weird, numb feeling was settling over his body. 

Suddenly, there was something being draped around his shoulders gently and wrapped around him. He jolted, and weakly tried to push it off, but hissed in pain as his hands tried to close. With the adrenaline fading and fast, he could actually feel the pain in his hands. 

Someone was kneeling in front of him. He looked up to see a woman with dark skin, and waist length cornrows that were pulled back by a blue bandana. He blinked at her slowly as she gently pulled what he realized was a shock blanket further around his shoulders. He suddenly realized he still had the bottom half of his mask pulled up, and reached to pull it down when she quickly stopped him. 

"None of that, sweetheart, I have to check if you burned your throat with the smoke, okay?" She said, gently catching his wrists. He winced, jerking a little at the touch. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are your hands burned?" 

He opened his mouth to reply but she quickly hushed him. "Just nod or shake your head, we don't want to risk damaging your throat any more than it already is, okay?" He nodded, and she smiled encouragingly. "Okay, now are the hand pieces separate? Can I take them off so I can check your hands? I'm a doctor, and I can help you." 

He nodded again, and ran the tip of his finger over a seam that was basically impossible to find if you didn't know where to look. The woman very gently peeled off the gloves, and he cried at the feeling, gasping and shaking. He looked at his hands and almost puked again. There were pink and brown splotches, and an angry red from where some of the skin had been pulled away. The skin curled at the edge of the burns, and in the centers, it almost looked black from the blood. 

He gagged, and the woman rubbed his back, murmuring comfortingly. "You're okay, kid, you're okay. Can I fix your hands up? I'm going to put some healing cream on them and wrap them in bandages, is that okay?" 

He nodded slowly, staring at her in order not to look at his hands. She smiled softly, and pulled a first aid bag that he didn’t even noticed she had in front of her, and pulled out the things she needed. He didn't look at them, instead, he focused on counting cornrows. He didn't want to know what she was doing. He didn't want to think about the terrible shape his hands were in. 

She had gloves on, latex ones, and she was pouring something on his hands that hurt like hell as it bubbled on his hands. _Hydrogen peroxide_ , his brain supplied helpfully. 

He whimpered hoarsely and then coughed violently, hunching over and wheezing. She winced and rubbed his shoulder gently. "I'm assuming you won't let us take you into the hospital, will you?" He shook his head, grunting as it made him dizzy. 

She squeezed his shoulders. "Shhh, let me call my wife over. She can get you an oxygen tank from the paramedics, okay? You can spend the night with us. Well. At a hotel room. That was kind of our house that burned down there. You saved our son, Michael. We can never thank you enough for that. Whenever you need medical attention, you come to us, okay? I'll fix you right up." 

"Can't do that," he rasped, head hung low. "M'sorry." 

She frowned, rubbing his shoulders soothingly. "Why not? It's not like you can go to the hospital, kid." 

"M-Michael. Know him. Recognize me." Jeremy mumbled, tensing even after just revealing that much. 

She paused. "Well. That makes everything a little more difficult, but the offer still stands. I promise, I'll never take off your make unless absolutely necessary, and won't let Michael see you without your full suit, okay?" 

He whimpered but nodded in defeat, too exhausted to fight anymore. "Find Christine. Short, braces, will be looking for me. Go home with her." 

Michael's mom nodded solemnly. "Okay. Save your breath, just focus on staying awake and alert, okay?" 

He nodded numbly, hunched over his hands. He lost track of what was happening soon after. He was aware, but he wasn't. It was strange, almost like he was watching a movie instead of living it. He watched as a short Filipino woman with her hair short and spikey hurried over with an oxygen tank and Christine. He wasn't sure how the first woman communicated that she needed them, but didn't care enough to try to figure it out. He watched as Christine tearfully clutched at his head, afraid to hurt him. She was the one who gently put the tube thing in his nose to help him get fresh oxygen. He almost cried in relief at the cool, refreshing feeling. After that, he was a little more there, listening idly to Christine talk as the first Mell Mom bandaged his hands up. He drank the water that Christine gently pressed against his mouth. 

"Come on," Christine whispered at some point. "You're okay. I promise, you're okay." 

****** 

Jeremy had no idea what time it was, or how he got there, but when he woke up in Christine's bed while she slept on the floor in a nest of blankets and pillows, he felt more like himself. He saw a cup with a straw on the bedside table. He slowly sat up, wincing at all the aches in his body, and drained the cup. As he laid back down, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered just how much he'd have to apologize to Michael the next time they saw each other for Michael to forgive him. 

He decided that even if Michael never forgave him, that was okay, because at least Michael was alive. And as long as that was true, Jeremy could deal with the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i crave death
> 
> personal tumblr: patrocool  
> ask blog for this au (please ask questions, i havent got any yet): askspidermanjeremy  
> instagram: retro.skates  
> twitter: nb_lafayette
> 
> i love the Mell Moms(tm), let me live. i also love michael and he is my sad boy. uh. no regrets, except that i am still awake.


	4. NOT AN UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please read this!!! im so sorry for not updating, itll be out soon, i promise

i'm so sorry, y'all!!! i just got home from a week long vacation monday morning (as in 12:30am, morning) and ive been busy all of this week, and i just realized i forgot to update this to tell yall this was happening?? so sorry!! i swear, im not abandoning this. 

anyways, ill hopefully be able to push out a chapter this weekend (maybe?? i'm gonna be moving my turtles this weekend, so idk) and school is starting on the 6th of september for me, and ill be starting my first job even sooner, probably, and i also have therapy, and volunteering at my local homeless youth center, _and_ on top of all of that, im ASB president (student council) and im also studying for my drivers test, so like. shit's getting pretty chaotic for me. im hong ill be able to update at least once every two weeks, but please dont yell at me if i dont manage that. im really bad at this kind of shit.

thank you all for sticking it out so far with me, comments definitely help encourage me to write faster (as long as theyre not comments like "omg when r u goin 2 update??!?!?!1?!1?1?!"

so, yeah! hopefully there will be an update tomorrow or sunday, but idk

**Author's Note:**

> lmao, yeah, i had ith characters in there. i love usnavi and sonny, okay, and i also needed someone to run the bodega, and why not them, yknow?
> 
> anyways, kudos make me smile, comments make my day. you can come yell at me on tumblr at patrocool.tumblr.com, or on twitter @nb_lafayette, or on instagram at retro.skates. please talk to me. i need more friends.


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